Through the Glass
by goblz
Summary: Chris watches through the glass window as other doctors try to save the last person important to him.


_A/N: Here I am again, and yes it's another piece about Chris and Jack. Honestly I loved their relationship and always wished there was more about them, more scenes between them. I will have more of my vignettes coming sometime, but I don't know exactly when._

_  
This was originally a part of my fic with Daydreamer299, _The Love Between Friends_, which to this day is still incomplete. In an attempt to complete it we chopped the last half of what we had planned for it, and I pulled a scene I had written, rewrote it and here this is. Many thanks to the people from my writer's group for critiquing!_

**Through the Glass**

Chris Ramsey stared through the glass window from the hallway, oblivious to the noise around him. The ER at General Hospital was busy tonight; people hurried past him in both directions—doctors, nurses, paramedics and the occasional person looking for a family member or a friend. Still in his doctor's coat, Chris didn't even notice the people who gaped at him somewhat incredulously for doing nothing.

His only concern was for the patient in Trauma Room 1, the only patient in all of Port Charles he was forbidden to help. Chris' younger brother was in that room with a list of injuries that had made the older Ramsey cringe.

Having been one of the first doctors to rush out when the ambulance arrived, Chris had gotten a good look at Jack, had heard the urgent report from the paramedics. Unluckily for him, the chief-of-staff had been there as well, and everyone in this town knew that Chris and Jack were brothers.

Dr. Quartermaine had ordered Chris not to take this patient. Working on family members increased the odds of a mistake being made. Emotional involvement could kill a patient. The young resident couldn't help but feel slightly indignant at that, however. He could count on one hand the mistakes he'd made on the job. If he hadn't trusted the two doctors in the room with Jack, Chris would have ignored his boss.

Ian Thornhart and Karen Wexler were good doctors, even if Chris rarely got along with them. He dared not despise them for being able to work on his brother, even if they too were emotionally involved. Both Ian and Karen cared about Jack; Chris forced himself to trust them.

As they worked fervently on their critical patient, Chris continued to watch them. They knew he was standing there, but if that hindered their work then that made them inept. Only the best care was suitable for Jack, and Chris would make sure he got it.

"Chris?" someone's voice finally penetrated the doctor's brain, and he turned to see his ex-girlfriend standing there, looking a bit too sympathetic. Doree wore her police uniform with a notepad in her hand, which hung by her waist. She nodded towards the trauma room. "How's he doing?"

"Not good. They won't let me in there." Chris sighed and turned back to the window.

Doree touched his arm lightly. "Chris, about the man who hit him… The tox results came back."

He looked over at her, already knowing what she was going to say. "His blood-alcohol-level was very high… well past the legal limit. He was pretty drunk."

"They arrest him yet?" Chris asked, again looking through the window.

"We just got the warrant, so once the hospital releases him he'll get taken into custody. But that won't be until tomorrow." Silence passed between them. "Chris, is there anything I can do for you?"

"Not right now," he said a bit harshly. He paid her no attention as she sighed and walked away.

All he could see of Jack was his shoulder and arm as Ian, Karen and two nurses worked around him. Chris' mind drifted back to when he and Jack were kids, when Chris had given his younger brother to social services. He had thought he'd done Jack a favor, getting him away from their abusive father. He'd lived the next thirteen years half in pain from what he'd done and half relieved that someone had gotten away from that house.

He'd never expected to see Jack again, and hadn't been pleased when his younger brother had shown up in his life. Only a few months had passed since the two had buried the hatchet, had started being brothers again.

They had three other siblings Chris hadn't talked to in a few years. None of them even knew their baby brother had come back into Chris' life; they all thought he was out there somewhere never to be found. Jack had never asked about them, although Jack rarely mentioned his childhood. Chris had never heard him talk about his life in the foster homes and he didn't think Jack had talked about it to anyone else either.

Chris doubted Jack even remembered their other siblings. He had been so young when Chris gave him to social services. For some reason, though, Jack had always remembered Chris.

Shortly after Doree left, Jack's best friends, Jamal Woods and Alison Barrington, interrupted Chris. They looked panicked and Chris inwardly groaned at having to deal with them. He turned to them as they came up behind him.

"Is he okay? What happened?" Alison asked, staring with her wide blue eyes past Chris for a second and then she looked back to him.

"Drunk driver hit him," he replied with a sigh. He didn't turn away from them, in spite of his strong urge to, but did look back into the window.

"Oh my God, on his motorcycle?" the blonde inquired, her hand going to her mouth.

The doctor nodded, noting Jamal's cringe. "If he hadn't been wearing his helmet, he'd be dead."

Alison was near tears. Jamal closed his eyes and placed his hand comfortingly on his ex-girlfriend's shoulder. "I should go call Rafe," she said after a minute, her voice shaking. She squeezed Jamal's hand tightly for a second and then disappeared down the hallway.

When she had gone, the two men stepped up to the glass. "How bad is it?" Jamal asked, his eyes never leaving his best friend.

"Severe trauma, internal injuries. He's pretty unstable right now, but he'll need surgery."

"You think he'll come through?"

Chris continued to stare at Jack. Many times as a doctor he'd given a more optimistic twist to possible outcomes to inquiring friends and family. He couldn't manage to do that. "I don't know." He watched one of the nurses squeeze the oxygen bag connected to the intubation tube. Karen exchanged an empty bag of blood connected to Jack's arm with a fresh one. Ian was on the phone, probably trying to get an operating room available.

Everything changed when Chris saw the heart monitor send out a flatline. His heart froze as Karen started compressions. Ian slammed down the phone and hurried over, grabbing a crash cart.

"Come on Jack," he heard Jamal's alarmed whisper.

Chris closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened them in time to see Ian place the shock paddles down, and after a second, he saw just a bit of his brother's bare torso as it arched up from the shock.

Jamal cringed again, but Chris remained completely still. He kept his eyes firmly on the heart monitor as Ian shocked the patient a second time, and then a third. The seconds dragged on like the flat rhythm of the monitor.

No change. No heartbeat.

He shook his head, refusing to accept this outcome. He would march in there himself and change it if he had to. He was not going to watch yet another person in his life die.

His mind went back just a few short months to another auto accident. Eve Lambert Thornhart, his best friend. He'd been in the room with her when she flatlined. Chris considered himself a damn good doctor, one of the best in Port Charles, but on that day he'd failed. He had lost the battle for one of the few people who mattered to him.

And since that day, it had been him and Jack. He may have started to get along better with other people who loved Eve, especially Ian. No one had ever loved Eve more than her husband and her best friend, and on some days that seemed to give them an understanding, even almost a bond. But Jack was the only one who cared on a daily basis. Jack saw him through some terrible moments. He had been the one person Chris couldn't push away after Eve died.

Karen and Ian exchanged words, and then Karen stole a glance at Chris. He knew by her upset expression, by the way everything was slowing down in that room, what was about to happen.

Before his brain comprehended what he was doing, he had stormed into the trauma room and yanked the shock paddles from Ian's hands. All of his co-workers were staring at him in shock, but he ignored all of them. When he yelled, "CLEAR!" he knew no one was standing in his way. He reached down and shocked his brother.

Nothing.

He ordered higher voltage, but no one budged. He glared at Karen expectantly, angered by the sympathy in her face.

"Chris…"

"Do it!" he yelled, causing her to flinch. Ian reached down and turned up the voltage. Everyone stared as he placed the paddles on Jack's chest again. He had never felt so close to losing control in his life.

He almost choked as a he saw a rhythm on the monitor. Jack's heart was beating—slow and shallow, but it was there.

The others quickly regained control and took over. Chris stepped back as Ian pushed the crash cart away. "Can I trust you?" he demanded of the two doctors. He shared a long look with Ian and then slowly headed back towards the door.

He passed by the window he had spent so long staring through; Alison had rejoined Jamal and he instantly noticed her tears. Jamal looked utterly relieved. Although Chris was known for being calm and cool, he felt like he could have cried right there in front of everybody.

"Good work, Ramsey," Ian said to him a few minutes later as Jack was being moved up to surgery. "Lambert would be proud."

**The End**

_I know there could be more on this; I'm honestly not sure if I want to write more or what I would write about. I could write and let you guys know if Jack lived or not, but I don't want to risk ruining what I already have._


End file.
